We Can Call It Paradise
by JayseHasNoGrace
Summary: Harry is living his perfect life, the Golden Trio is still going strong, he works as a successful auror, and he's still the saviour of the wizarding world. Except he's going insanely stir-crazy, which may end up involving moving to Muggle London, plenty of disguises, even more one night stands, and possibly Draco Malfoy. A ficlet.
1. Preface

**Written: December 2017**

Relevant Tags: #EWE, #wild child Harry, #reckless Draco, #tattooed Draco, #smut, #in the second half of Ch. 1 if you want to skip it, #one night stands, #Harry in a crop top, #canonical sassy Harry, #a harkening back to the glory of 'No Need To Call Me Sir Professor', #so much use of the word fuck. Like so much. And like every derivative. I'm so extra, #neither of them are drunk when they have sex, #but dubcon because Draco doesn't know Harry is Harry the first time they have sex bc he's in disguise

 **WARNING:** This Story Contains Explicit Sexual Content (in Chapter 1), and Dubious Consent

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* * *

Title, chapter titles, and original inspiration from 'Save A Prayer' by Duran Duran.

(Photo featured on cover by Phil Maxwell via philmaxwell website; 'Two men kissing, 1990'. FFN unfortunately does not allow links, but if you PM me, I can direct you to the original post. All edits mine.)


	2. Some People Call It A One Night Stand

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he stared out the window. Merlin, he was happier than anything that he'd moved to Muggle London — he got to lose the constant stress of being The Harry Potter in the public eye — but he was wondering if he should want to see his friends more often. He saw Ron and Hermione sometimes at work, but, well, the Ministry was a busy place so it's not like they ever really just sat about talking.

He had become quite the loner in his off time, and quite honestly he preferred reveling in the lack of work to do rather than hanging out with his friends. What he really wanted to do was go out clubbing, but he was starting to wonder whether it was healthy. It felt fine to him, but sometimes he remembered Hermione's lectures about isolation after the war and how it wasn't good for him.

Harry sighed. He was dressed to pull anyway, it'd be a waste not to go out at this point. He started to get up off the window seat, when something shiny out the window caught his eye. It was only the sun reflecting off of someone's hair through the faint trail of cigarette smoke drifting upward. Harry thought it would make a nice photograph — with the small point of brightness in the middle of the haze, and the faded grey of the streets. He turned away, before he could get too lost in thought; he'd been doing that a lot lately.

Harry stood in front of the mirror wondering how much was too much, as he put on eyeliner. It had apparently worked in Sirius' youth so why not.

Harry found himself especially bold when he went out because nobody knew who he was. He could be whoever he wanted and then just...disappear. Hell, he'd probably die of embarrassment if anyone found out he owned clothes like these.

Eyeliner smudged to his satisfaction, he added a nifty little temporary vision spell he'd found so he could do without his glasses for a few hours. Whilst he was at it, he charmed his eyes brown and his hair a bit lighter and longer. He knew charms wouldn't do a thing about the state of it, so he didn't even bother. Looking in the mirror, he tapped his wand on his chin (something he'd been repeatedly not to do by Hermione — honestly it was quite dangerous) and frowned. He made some minute adjustments to the way his facial features sat and... _there_.

Finally satisfied he wouldn't be recognised as himself or any of the other guises he'd taken on, he left. He didn't like to repeat looks very much — it turned out people didn't take it so well when you weren't interested in a second one night stand. Harry thought that rather defeated the purpose of it being _one night,_ but he'd also found out reasoning didn't work too well. Especially when there were six of them confronting him at once. Being a different person every time was definitely best.

As he walked down the street, he caught sight of the shiny haired person he'd seen from the window leaning against the light post on the corner, smoking a cigarette. Harry thought he looked rather pale and pointy, almost like a Malfoy.

Actually, Harry wondered just what had become of him. Last he'd heard, Malfoy had all but disappeared from wizarding society and was living amongst the Muggles, which Harry had found incredibly ironic.

No doubt, this guy — no matter how pale and pointy he may be — would never pass for a prim and proper pureblood Malfoy. In fact, Harry thought he probably wouldn't be allowed within ten metres of the family.

This man had ears glinting with multiple piercings — and even one in his nose — but more to the point, he was absolutely _covered_ in tattoos. Besides that, his hair looked messy and unintentionally grown out, and everyone knew what ponces Malfoys were about their hair.

~*~

Draco took a last drag of his cigarette and crushed it under his boot. He was pretty sure that the guy across the street was checking him out — he'd been just standing there for like a minute. Draco winked at him and turned down the street. He doubted the guy was shocked by his rather, er, _expressive_ appearance — this dude was hardly dressed like a puritan himself. Those jeans were so ripped up they might as well not exist, and yet they managed to be tighter than Draco would've thought possible.

Yeah, Draco was definitely going clubbing. He wanted to dance and drink until he forgot his own name. And if the hot, interested guy across the street happened to be there, which it looked like he was going _somewhere_ full of dancing and drunkenness, well that would just be a bonus.

It had barely been an hour and he hadn't even had but one shot, but Draco felt absolutely hammered on energy alone. He wound his way through the crowd, grinding blindly on whomever happened to be nearest. A couple of times he'd ended up making out with some guy who was dancing back against him. He hoped whomever his next victim was was going to be up for a bit more than some heavy snogging because he was incredibly horny at this point.

He spotted the guy from the street earlier across the room by the bar. Well would you look at that: victim spotted.

As Draco got nearer, he saw the man was dancing on a woman. No matter, it didn't seem like they'd come together, it shouldn't be to hard to break in. He danced closer and lightly placed his hands on the guy's hips from behind, making him turn around in surprise. He leaned forward to speak in Draco's ear.

"Hey, you're the guy who winked at me in the street earlier."

Draco grinned, and leaned in to shout back.

"Hey, you're the guy who was checking me out in the street earlier," he said, mockingly imitating his surprised tone of recognition.

The guy's brows furrowed as he stared at Draco's face.

"What's your name?"

"Draco." The guy made an odd face, and Draco quickly said, "I know, weird name." He'd never get used to this with Muggles. It wasn't _that_ weird. "What's yours?"

"J-Jamie."

~*~

Harry's brain was a whirlwind of _OhFuckOhFuckOhHolyHellAndMerlin'sBloodyLeftTit!_ He snuck a glance down to Draco's forearm, and there it was. Reddened and faded, but still there amongst all the other markings: the Dark Mark. Fuck, it was really him. How did Harry always get himself into these kinds of situations?

"Why suddenly so nervous, love?" Draco yelled in his ear. His thumbs came up to rub circles on Harry's bare waist. His shirt covered just to the bottom of his ribs, a fact Draco was happily taking full advantage of.

Harry attempted a grin and shook his head, hoping that Draco would drop it. Fuck. Draco pulled him closer by the hips and starting grinding on him, and fuck that was hot. And then he was kissing him, and he didn't even know how it started, but now they were snogging the faces off of each other and Draco was grinding on him and telling him all the things he wanted to do to him in his ear.

Harry had a very intense battle in his mind, which began with 'IT'S STILL MALFOY!' and ended with 'Oh, fuck it. He doesn't have to know, and we're both just here to get laid.' And then he was asking Draco to come home with him and they were leaving the club.

They got to the alley outside and Draco pushed him against the brick wall, apparently unable to keep his hands — or mouth — off of Harry.

Harry, took a swift step around Draco, as he held him, and Apparated them straight to his place before he even had a chance to properly think about what he was doing. Draco gasped.

"You're—"

"I already know you're a wizard, Draco. Just leave it."

"But—"

"Do you really want to sit here and talk about this instead of doing more, I don't know, pleasurable things with the time?"

"That's a serious law you could have been so fucked for," he managed to get out before he was back to kissing the life out of Harry.

"And you really fucking pissed me off by Apparating me without warning, I hate that feeling. But fuck you for still making it hot." He mumbled angrily between kisses.

Harry didn't bother to try and respond. Apparently no matter who he pretended to be, he'd always piss Draco off. Perhaps it was a special talent. He led Draco backward to the couch and Draco straddled him, grinding down on his lap and gasping slightly at the feeling as Harry pulled on his hair to get better access to where he was kissing and sucking at his neck. He dug his nails into Harry's back and Harry groaned.

"Mmh I wanna fuck you."

"Oh god, please."

Harry's lips twitched at a Malfoy saying something at all akin to a prayer. Draco had certainly picked up some things living amongst Muggles.

"A wizard? Praying? I'm flattered," he joked.

"Wouldn't you just like to think it's about how good you are," Draco bit out as Harry kissed and sucked under his jaw.

"Yeah, well we'll see if you sing the same tune the morning after." Harry doubted there would be a morning after. He was never one to stay, and Draco didn't seem the type either.

"You're gonna make it that bad?" Draco quipped back, pulling his shirt over his head, and Harry snogged him rather than responding. Draco moaned when Harry sucked and bit at his lower lip, so apparently he'd managed to make his point nonetheless.

His hands wandered freely across the smooth bare skin of Draco's torso, and ground up against him.

"Bed?" Harry asked.

"What, you think I want you to fuck me on this tiny-arse sofa?"

"Such. A fucking. Smartarse," Harry slid his hands under Draco's bum, and stood.

Draco locked his legs around Harry's waist. "Yeah? Guess you'd better fuck it out of me then," he murmured into Harry's ear, tracing his tongue up behind the shell. Harry shivered and moaned, carrying Draco quickly to his bedroom and laying back on the bed so Draco was on top of him.

He ran his hands through Draco's hair as he kissed him, and traced them down his waist, finally ending at Draco's belt buckle, he tugged at it, questioning and Draco nodded. "Yeah. Please."

Harry undid his belt and zip, and Draco quickly rolled off of him. Harry was confused until he looked over and saw Draco frantically untying his boots and tossing them aside with his socks, before stripping off his trousers. He latched back onto Harry's throat, biting and sucking lightly, slowly moving downward as his hands worked to rid Harry of his clothes.

He pulled down Harry's trousers as he sucked on a spot right next to his navel.

"Fuck, Draco."

"Want me to suck you off?"

"Yes. Fuck yes."

Draco rubbed a hand across him through his boxers, mouthing at his waistband, then slowly slipped his underwear down, careful to keep it from catching on Harry's cock. He backed off slightly and stroked a careful hand over the silky skin, making Harry groan and close his eyes.

He felt a quick kitten lick on the underside of his cock and cracked his eyes back open. Then Draco was tracing his tongue flat up the bottom of his dick and circling the head. He licked down the sides and Harry groaned.

"Merlin, stop teasing me."

Then the whole top half of his cock was encased in warm, tight, velvety wetness. He looked down at Draco and Draco made steady eye contact as he sunk his mouth further down onto Harry's dick.

 _Fuck_ , Harry thought. He looked so good like that with his lips stretched around Harry's cock. Draco hollowed his cheeks and sucked, and Harry's eyes fell closed again, hands clenching tightly in Draco's hair seemingly of their own accord.

"Ahh, yes." He opened his eyes as Draco started slowly bobbing his head and Draco was still staring up at him. He kept eye contact for awhile, mesmerised, before pulling Draco off of his cock and kissing him deeply.

"Fucking hell," He reached for his bedside drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube, "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you."

"You really think you're up to the task?" Draco smirked, running a hand up Harry's stomach and over his waist.

"You git, how much is it gonna take to get you incoherent enough to stop making smart remarks?"

"I've always been partial to the 'try and see' approach, but you'd better give it your all just in case."

The smug look on Draco's face, was quickly wiped off when Harry was over him, mouth against his ear, whispering dirty things and pushing down his boxers. Harry pulled back to completely strip Draco of them, and grabbed his hips, directing him onto his hands and knees.

He sat back behind Draco and ran his hands over every inch of skin he could reach, admiring all the different colours and patterns colliding on the soft, smooth skin. His hands continued to roam freely as he began leaving open-mouthed kisses up the backs of Draco's thighs. He moved up to mouth at Draco's back and dragged his hands down down over his arse.

His tongue trailed back down and gave a small nip.

"Can I eat you out?"

Draco's breath hitched and he nodded, letting out a breathy "Yeah."

Draco writhed and moaned under him as Harry slowly tongued him and stretched him open.

Harry almost didn't feel as if anything was real. Time seemed fragmented and inconstant.

Almost before he could process it, he was thrusting into Draco, amidst moans of encouragement. The next thing he knew, Draco was face down on the mattress, apparently unable to hold himself up as Harry thrusted down into him.

Harry was floating — he couldn't think straight, nothing seemed like real life — but whatever these clouds he was on were, they felt so, so incredibly good. Then Draco was riding him and he didn't know when that had happened, but fuck it was a good decision. Draco circled his hips, taking Harry as deep as possible, and fuck Harry was in paradise.

And now Draco was screaming and moaning underneath him, as Harry came inside him. He saw white and collapsed beside Draco. After several long moments of panting and reveling in the aftershocks, Harry became conscious of the stickiness drying on his chest, and looked over at Draco, who was probably quite a bit more uncomfortable as his chest and stomach were covered in his own come, and Harry's was slowly leaking onto the sheets.

Harry quickly waved his hand and wandlessley scourgified both of them.

Draco looked over at Harry with glazed eyes and let out a small exhilarated laugh. His eyes quickly began to droop closed and Harry's followed of their own accord. He let his exhaustion take over, and the last thing he remembered was curling into warm arms before he drifted off.


	3. Until The Morning After

"What the— fucking hell! Potter?!"

Harry was awoken by a rather creative list of expletives being screeched in quite a close proximity to him. Obviously he was quite effectively and entirely woken up.

He sat up to see a frantic Draco Malfoy pulling on his clothes from around the room.

"Shite." Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't expect this to happen, if it helps?"

"No, Potter — it bloody well does _not!_ If I had known it was you, I would have stayed well enough away. And where the hell is my shirt?"

"Somewhere near the sofa," Harry muttered, and tried to collect himself. He was trying to appear unaffected even if inside he was quite the opposite. Riling Draco further seemed like a bad idea.

He grabbed his jeans from the night before and pulled them on, shoving his glasses onto his face, and following Draco to the living room. "Look I didn't expect you to stay the night—"

"I didn't intend to! And that's not a god damned excuse! I thought I went out to forget myself and fuck some random bloke who didn't know anything about my past, and then walk away. Now I have to deal with whatever fucking consequences come with having a one night stand in Muggle London with the wizarding world's _Golden Boy_ ," He furiously yanked his bootlaces tighter as he ranted.

"I'm not going to tell anyone—"

"Oh right, can't soil that sparkling reputation—" he sneered.

"Hey! I'm trying to be civil. I don't know what you want from me!"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe to have just not gone out in Muggle London in disguise and decided to take a fucking Death Eater home!"

" _Former_ Death Eater," he corrected quietly, "And you were exonerated— No, you know what, that's not what this is about," he continued, raising his voice. "Not everything is still about the fucking war, Draco. It's been over for half a bloody decade! I didn't even realise it was you anyway until you told me your name—"

"Oh, I'm sorry, were we already fucking at that point? No, you had plenty of time to decide that maybe this wasn't the most brilliant idea you've come up with."

"My reasoning was a bit lowered—"

"Don't you fucking lie to me, I was watching you!" Draco shouted. "You hadn't had _one_ fucking drink. I don't know where you went before that, but you weren't even acting tipsy, and you didn't smell like alcohol at all. How dare you try and make me into the bad guy; you pretended you were someone else and decided it was a good idea to hook up with me anyway—"

"Draco, I wasn't trying to make you look like the bad guy—"

"And stop fucking using my given name like we're buddies or you've ever fucking used it before last night, or like you even know jack shit about who I am!" Draco yelled, finally finishing lacing his boots and standing.

"Go fuck yourself, Potter." He slammed the front door behind him, and Harry blinked and let out a slow breath.

Well. That wasn't how he'd planned on his morning going. He glanced at the clock and swore, rushing back to his bedroom.

Fucking hell, he had work in ten minutes. Damn it, he was going to be late. Shite.

He firecalled Ron's office, knowing he'd already be in. Ron always came in early on Fridays so he could leave early.

"Hey mate, what's up?"

Ron greeted him, spitting crumbs from his muffin as he talked.

"I'm going to be a bit late, can you cover for me if anybody asks?"

"Sure mate," Ron grinned. "Hurry up and get here so you can explain yourself."

Harry took the quickest shower of his life, and was presentable and Apparating to the Ministry soon enough.

As soon as he walked into his office, he was confronted with Ron sitting on his desk.

Ron wiggled his eyebrows. "Busy night?"

"How could you tell," Harry asked drily.

"Could just be your general aura," Ron said, trying to sound mysterious. He let it sit for a moment, before showing his hand and continuing. "Or I tried to firecall you last night to see if you wanted to go for drinks for Seamus' birthday, but you and blonde tattoo guy were a bit busy making sure I never touch that couch of yours again."

Harry blushed.

"You should really start locking your Floo, mate," Ron advised for probably the thousandth time.

"Was a little preoccupied," Harry mumbled.

"That good huh?"

"No; a fucking headache, actually," Harry sighed. "Not a good morning, which is why I'm late."

"How do you ruin sex? It's like curry and chips...even when it's bad, it's still good."

"Ron, you've only ever been with 'Mione, and if you hadn't been you'd know that's definitely not true. But that wasn't the problem, that part was fine — _great_ , actually — but we fell asleep and he stayed the night..." Harry trailed off.

"Chill mate, that's not that big a deal. I know you don't usually, but that's actually normally how it goes."

"Yeah, except I was in _disguise_ last night, and I of course looked like _myself_ when I woke up."

"Oh, shite, didn't even think of that. Are we going to have to obliviate some poor Muggle?"

"No, worse."

"Oh no, he knows you're Harry Potter."

"Yeah. But that's somehow not even the worst part."

"How? Am I going to have to blackmail someone?"

"I doubt it'll be getting out that we hooked up," Harry muttered.

"So then what's the problem?"

Harry took a deep breath and briefly contemplated whether or not to tell Ron. No, this was Ron, of course he'd tell him.

"Well ' _blonde tattoo guy'_ ," Harry held up air quotes, "Was Draco bloody Malfoy."

Ron's jaw dropped.

"You slept with _Malfoy?!_ "

Harry shushed him, and looked quickly at the door to make sure it was completely shut.

"Sorry mate, but you slept with _Malfoy?_ " He asked again, incredulously. And then, "Wait, you slept with Malfoy and _liked it?_ "

Harry shrugged confusedly. "I mean...yeah?"

Ron wrinkled his nose. "He always seemed a bit...pointy."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Merlin's tits, Ron, that is _not_ what this is about."

"Okay, okay sorry. So what happened?"

"What do you think? A lot of yelling and slamming of doors."

"Huh. Well, Harry you really do the stupidest things sometimes. I mean, sorry, but how did you not see that turning out horribly? What even made you think 'Hmm, wow I've run into Malfoy. Guess I'd better shag him, but it's okay because he doesn't know it's me.'"

"Wow, thanks Ron."

"Can't lie to you; it was a dumb decision."

"Yeah, I don't really think I was using my _brain_ a whole lot, Ronald."

"Hey, you're not allowed to ' _Ronald'_ me. Only Hermione's allowed to do that. And mum."

"Yeah, because you just mercifully allow her to. Not because she just does it and you deal with it."

"Whatever, _Harold._ "

"'S not even my name."

Ron stuck his tongue out and stood up. "Well I'm going to go do some work and try very hard not to think about you and the ferret shagging. Ugh, especially now I know it was _him_ I saw through the floo."

"Shut _up_ , Ron," Harry called after Ron as he left the room.

Ugh. Now he had his thoughts to himself and a busy work day ahead of him, and he'd probably be distracted thinking about Draco fucking Malfoy...and probably also fucking Draco Malfoy. But he didn't have to admit that — even to himself.

Perhaps an hour before Harry was due to leave from work, he looked up from his papers to see that Hermione had kindly let herself into his office.

"Oh, thanks for knocking, Hermione," He said sarcastically.

She just raised an eyebrow.

"So Malfoy," she finally said.

Harry groaned. "Ron is the worst."

"Well he's married to me, and I'm your best friend, so I should hope I'd know about these things."

He covered his face with both hands. "Yeah, what about it?"

"I don't know. I honestly don't know what to think. Other than just 'hmm.'"

"Well great, thank you for your insightful input."

Hermione sighed.

"Honestly it all just sounds like a bloody mess. There's no way this is going to be the end of this. _Something's_ bound to happen, that's just how these things are."

"Great," Harry groaned. "What luck."

"It's not exactly _luck_ Harry, you kind of did it to yourself."

"Yes, thanks. Ron and Draco have both already felt the need to tell me that."

"Draco, hm?"

Harry blew out an aggravated breath. "I fucked him 'Mione, am I supposed to call him by his last name forever?"

Hermione snorted and shrugged. "Do what you like, Harry. You're a big boy. I'm just saying maybe you should talk about this, and I wouldn't expect it to just go away."

"Well all you have to say about it is ' _Hmm'_ and all Ron has to say is that Malfoy looks a bit too pointy to be a good time, so I'm not quite sure who exactly I should be talking to."

Hermione shrugged again, looking tired. "Of _course_ that's all Ron had to say. Well, I don't know Harry, perhaps just try and think it over."

"Trust me, that's _all_ I've been doing."

Hermione nodded. "Alright then, I've got plenty of ministerial bollocks to deal with now."

"Should the Minister for Magic really be swearing in front of her employees?"

She gave a small grin and flipped him two fingers.

Later, when Harry was curled up in bed, he thought back over the conversation and how oddly vague Hermione had been. Looking back, it did rather seem that she had opinions other than 'hmm' that she was just keeping to herself.

He'd have to ask her about that later. For now he'd try to sleep and forget the foolery that was his life.


	4. Don't Ask Me Why

It had been just over two weeks since That Night Which Shall Not Be Mentioned, and Harry Apparated into his flat utterly exhausted.

He'd been out in the field all day, chasing after the heads of a wizard trafficking ring. The whole case was horrid and had given Harry quite a few nightmares, but those sneaky bastards were always slipping out of their grasp at the last moment. Harry supposed it would be awhile again before they caught onto their new trail.

He flopped onto his sofa and covered his face with his hands, focusing on trying to relax the tensed muscles in his back and shoulders. Shortly after he began to doze off, Harry thought he heard a light knock on the door, and jolted upright. He stilled for a minute, and then there it was again.

He got up, and opened the door a bit apprehensively, unsure as to who would be knocking at his door. The only people who knew where he lived would surely firecall.

"Erm...hi."

Apparently Draco Malfoy would be knocking at his door.

Harry waved him in awkwardly. There was a moment of charged silence.

"So..." Both of them began at once, causing another silence.

"I've been thinking," Draco forged ahead, "and whilst I still don't think what you did was right," he took a deep breath. "I think we should continue."

"Wh— erm, I— I don't follow."

"I still think you made a stupid decision and it shouldn't have happened, but since it's _already_ happened...well. I think it's clear that we both have a lot on our minds that we seek, erm, _distractions_ from. Or maybe you just turned into a massive nymphomaniac, I don't know, but my point is that whilst we're not on the best terms, it _worked_.

"We were never friends, and I doubt we ever will be, but I think an...arrangement could be made that would be mutually beneficial."

Well, clearly all of Draco's posh upbringing hadn't disappeared, Harry thought as he listened to Draco's stiffly formal and long winded proposal.

It was true that it _had_ effectively cleared Harry's mind of stress (at least, until the morning), and that it would solve Harry's problem of constantly having to hide from being both himself _and_ any of the other personas he'd taken on. But, whatever he said, he had to appear casual in front of Draco.

"So you're asking if I want to shag again?"

Draco coloured slightly, and nodded. "If you absolutely have to phrase it like that."

"Okay, sure," Harry shrugged.

Draco gaped. "Okay sure," he mocked. "That's all you have to say?"

Harry shrugged again, trying his best to look unaffected.

"I hate you," Draco muttered under his breath, and then louder, "So, any plans tonight

"No."

"Good."

And then Draco was on him, claiming his mouth for his own, and stealing his breath away. And honestly? Harry didn't much mind.

The sex this time was nearly as violent as it was blissful. It turned out it didn't matter so much _why_ one was so impassioned. Really it only mattered _how_ impassioned one was, and what they were willing to do about it.

It was almost like a contest for them to see who could get the other completely wrecked first. As it turned out, they both won.

And when Harry woke up the next morning to the bed being jostled by Draco pulling on his boots, it only resulted in Draco turning and giving him a nod before letting himself out.

~*~

After nearly a month of Harry and Draco shagging almost every night, Harry came into work to see that Hermione had once again let herself into his office.

"Hello 'Mione, nice to see you."

She nodded in greeting.

"You seem in a good enough mood. I take it you haven't had another argument with Malfoy yet then?"

Harry coughed. "...No?"

"Hmm," Hermione looked him over, "I thought for sure something more would happen with that. He was never really the type to let things go...especially when it comes to you."

"Yeeahhh?" Harry wasn't sure whether to agree or...whatever else.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and gave him a stern look.

"About that..."

Hermione sighed. "Yes? Am I going to have to force it out of you?"

"No." Harry lapsed back into silence and Hermione made a 'well carry on with it then' gesture with her hand.

"So, yes, you were right, that wasn't the end. He, erm, came to my flat a few weeks ago and, well, he was...well he _was_ still mad. But he didn't come back to yell at me, and then we sortofhookedupagainandhavebeenshaggingeversince," he ended all at once.

"Oh dear, I hope I didn't hear that correctly," Hermione responded drily.

Harry flushed. "You probably did."

"Well, I'm can't say I'm surprised," Harry tried to interrupt her, and she held up a hand. "I didn't expect it, but I'm not surprised." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "But _Malfoy_ , really?" she couldn't help adding.

"Hey, he's gotten pretty fit," Harry flushed again. "And he's...nice."

"Malfoy, nice? When do I meet him again and see this miracle for myself?"

"I'm not sure that would be a great idea. Like how would I even approach that. 'Hey mate, want to meet up with Hermione, the literal Minister for Magic, so I can reintroduce you to her as the guy I'm always shagging when she and Ron want to go out for drinks?'" Although, that wasn't quite all he was, Harry realised. They'd ended up doing quite a lot of talking besides just the sex and, well, Harry felt that they'd sort of become friends.

Hermione laughed. "You call him mate?"

"No."

Hermione laughed harder. "You're ridiculous, Harry. I won't insist, but I think it'd be nice at some point for me and Ron to meet him again."

Harry nodded vaguely.

~*~

Harry felt the bed jostle, and he clutched tighter to the warmth. A warm hand drew lazy lines up and down his back and he sighed in contentment.

"I've got to take a piss, love."

Harry squeezed Draco tighter. "No. I'm comfortable."

"I'll bring you food?"

Harry sighed and loosened his arms. He felt Draco drop a kiss on top of his head and slip out of the bed. Harry rolled over onto his back and thought how strange it was how quickly things could come to seem normal. At some point over the months this had just become the norm. Harry wasn't actually even sure if Draco had been to his own flat in over a month.

He wasn't entirely certain what he had done without Draco before. Things just seemed right this way: never waking up alone, always with someone there to take his mind off of work and make sure he ate something other than takeaway curry.

Draco came back into the room and offered harry a plate of scrambled eggs and a fork.

"Get back in," Harry held up the covers for him.

"Spoilt," Draco muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all," He quickly kissed Harry, before shoving the plate into his hands. "Now eat."

Harry sat up and complied, watching Draco out of the corner of his eye.

"Do you want to go on a date?" He blurted, mouth still full of eggs.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Lovely."

Harry swallowed his food, and cleared his throat nervously. He wasn't sure if Draco would just try to brush it off. They hadn't exactly ever talked about what they _were_ , it had just sort of happened. "So?" he asked.

Draco nodded absentmindedly. "Where do you want to go?"

Harry hadn't really thought this far ahead. "Er...cinema?"

Draco shrugged. "Okay. Like right now?"

"Why not?"

"Yes, why not," Draco repeated pensively. His fingers ran lightly through Harry's hair as they sat.

Harry thought that maybe some things could be brilliant just being whatever they were. Maybe it didn't matter what it was called or how it happened. Maybe it could just be paradise.


End file.
